Do not tell your sister that I went easy on her. Tell her
you beat me, if she asks. The Sphinx paused, looking Seth
up and down. You have obviously been cursed.
A demon statue bit me. You can tell?
I knew beforehand, but the evidence of the curse is
plain. Olloch the Glutton. How does it feel to be on his
menu?
Not so good. Can you fix me?
The Sphinx opened the refrigerator. I offered your sister
a drink.
You have anything from Egypt?
I have apple juice. I suppose Egyptians drink it sometimes.
Okay. Seth roamed the room, looking at the strange
knickknacks on the tables and shelves. A miniature Ferris
wheel, a collapsible spyglass, a crystal music box, numerous
figurines.
The Sphinx popped open a can of apple juice and
poured the contents into a frosty mug. Here you go.
Seth accepted the mug and took a sip. I like the frozen
cup.
I am glad. Seth, I cannot remove the curse. It will
remain until Olloch either devours you or is destroyed.
So what do I do? Seth started guzzling his juice.
You will have to rely on the barrier the walls of
Fablehaven provide. The day will come when Olloch shows
up at the gates. The insatiable drive that compels him
toward you will only increase over time. Worse, the demon
is in the hands of the Society, and I suspect they will ensure
he makes his way to you sooner rather than later. When
Olloch makes his appearance, we will find a way to deal with
him. Until that day, Fablehaven will be your refuge.
No more school? Seth asked hopefully.
You must not leave Fablehaven again until the glutton
has been subdued. Mark my words, he will appear before
long. When he does, we will discover a weakness and learn a
way toexploit it. You should have no problem returning to
school by the fall.
Having finished the juice, Seth wiped his lips with the
back of his hand. No big rush.
Our conversation is nearly finished, the Sphinx said,
taking the mug from Seth. Take care of your sister.
Turbulent times lie ahead. The gift the fairies have given her
will make her a target. Your bravery can be a powerful asset
if you can keep it unspoiled by recklessness. Do not forget
that Fablehaven almost fell because of your folly. Learn from
that mistake.
I will, Seth said. I mean, I have. And I'll keep
Kendra's fairykind thing a secret.
The Sphinx extended a hand. Seth shook it. One last
thing, Seth. Are you aware that Midsummer Eve is scarcely
a week away?
Yeah.
Might I make a suggestion?
Okay.
Don't open any windows.
An Uninvited Guest
Grandpa leaned back in his wheelchair, tapping his lips
with the safe end of a fountain pen. Kendra and Seth
sat in the oversized armchairs, and Grandma was behind the
desk. Kendra and Seth had not seen Grandpa the previous
night-Grandma had taken them to a fondue restaurant
after their meeting with the Sphinx, and so they had not
returned until well after dark.
Our story is that you were fairystruck, and that there
were some residual effects from the incident, Grandpa said,
ending the contemplative silence. It sounds perfectly plausible,
and will make you less of a target than if word gets out
you are fairykind. Obviously we never let on that the diagnosis
came from the Sphinx-we do not mention him at all,
to anyone.
Coulter already knows we went to see him, Kendra
confessed.
What? Grandma leaned forward.
He already told me, Grandpa said. Ruth, he was trying
to teach the lesson that spies could be anywhere, eavesdropping
on conversations, and in the process learned about
the Sphinx. The secret will be safe with Coulter. But he
need not hear further details. No discussing it outside of this
study.
So if anyone asks, Kendra was fairystruck, Seth said.
If someone knows enough to ask, and deserves an
answer, that is our story, Grandpa reiterated. Now I hope
we can get back to business as usual. Tanu is off scouting
some unexplored territory. Coulter has an outing specifically
for Seth. And Kendra can assist Vanessa with research.
Research? Kendra asked. Here in the house?
Seth bit the side of his hand. He was choking back
laughter, which only served to inflame Kendra's indignation.
She's going through some journals, Grandpa said.
Following up on some hints left by Patton Burgess.
Why can't I go with Coulter? It's sexist! Can't you make
him take me?
Coulter is one of the most stubborn men I know,
Grandpa said. I have serious doubts whether anyone could
make him do anything. But I'm not sure today need be an
issue for you, Kendra. I suspect you would rather skip this
outing of your own accord. You see, a certain fog giant
snared a valuable lead with us. In return, we promised him
a live buffalo. So Coulter, Seth, and Hugo will be handing
over a buffalo to the brute to be instantly devoured. It will
be a gruesome sight.
Awesome, Seth whispered reverently.
Okay, well, I guess I don't mind skipping that, Kendra
admitted. But I still don't like the idea of being left out of
Coulter's excursions.
Complaint noted, Grandpa said. Now, Seth, I don't
want this Olloch the Glutton business keeping you up at
night. The Sphinx is right, the walls of Fablehaven will be
sufficient protection, and if he says he will help us take care
of the glutton once the demon shows up, then I see no cause
for worry.
Sounds good to me, Seth said.
Well, then, Grandpa said. Off you go.
* * * *
Seth kept glancing over his shoulder at the buffalo they
were leading along the path. Huge shaggy head, short white
horns, bulky body, plodding gait. He had never appreciated
what large animals they were. Had Hugo not been leading
the beast with a bridle, Seth would have scrambled up a tree.
They had started out on paths Seth knew, but quickly
turned down unfamiliar roads. Now they had reached lower,
wetter terrain than Seth had ever seen at Fablehaven. The
trees had more moss and vines, and the first shreds of unexpected
mist eddied close to the ground.
Seth clutched his emergency kit. Alongside the more
conventional contents, Tanu had added a small potion that
would boost his vigor if he became exhausted. This morning
Coulter had added a lucky rabbit's foot and a medallion that
was supposed to repel the undead.
Is this rabbit's foot really lucky? Seth asked, fingering
it.
We'll see, Coulter responded, eyes scanning the trees.
Are you superstitious?
I like to cover my bases, he said softly. Keep your
voice low. This is not a hospitable area of the preserve. Now
might be a good time to put on that medallion.
Seth fished the medallion out of his emergency kit and
slipped the chain around his neck. Where did Hugo find a
buffalo in the first place? he asked quietly.
There's a complex of corrals and stables on the preserve,
Coulter said. Not filled to capacity, but with plenty
of animals for Fablehaven to remain self-sufficient. Hugo
does most of the upkeep. He brought the buffalo from there
this morning.
Do you have any giraffes?
The most exotic it gets are ostriches, llamas, and buffalo,
Coulter said. Along with more traditional livestock.
The mist was getting thicker. The air remained warm,
but the cloying smell of decay was increasing. The terrain
became soupier. Seth began spotting clusters of fuzzy mushrooms
and rocks slick with slime.
Coulter pointed to a path diverting off to one side.
Normally in Fablehaven you are relatively safe if you stay
on the path. But that is only true of the real paths. That
path, for example, was created by a swamp hag to lead the
unwary to their doom.
Seth stared at the narrow trail meandering off into the
mist, trying to memorize it so he would never make the mistake
of following it. They did not go much farther before
Coulter stopped.
We are now at the edge of the great marsh of
Fablehaven, he whispered. One of the most perilous, least
explored areas of the preserve. A likely region for the
inverted tower to be hidden. Come.
Coulter stepped off the path onto muddy ground. Seth
squelched after him, with Hugo and the ill-fated buffalo
bringing up the rear. Up ahead, through the shroud of white
mist, a geodesic dome came into view. The grid of triangles
that comprised the dome appeared to be composed of glass
and steel. In form, the structure was similar to the domes of
interlocking metal bars Seth had seen on playgrounds.
What's that? Seth asked.
A safe hut, Coulter said. Glass domes strategically
placed in some of the more threatening areas of the preserve.
They provide the kind of refuge we enjoy back at the main
house. Nothing can enter uninvited.
They walked about ten yards past the hut. Hugo, picket
the buffalo here, Coulter ordered. Then stand watch from
behind the hut.
Hugo produced a stake the size of a fence post and thrust
it deep into the ground with a single powerful motion. The
golem then fastened the buffalo to the stake. Coulter shook
something from a pouch into his palm, then cupped his
hand near the buffalo's muzzle. This will anesthetize him,'
Coulter explained. Next he produced a knife and slashed the
buffalo on the shoulder. The buffalo tossed its heavy head.
A deep roar came echoing out of the mist. To the hut,
Coulter murmured, wiping the knife clean before stowing it.
He tossed the rag that he had used to wipe the knife near the
buffalo.
The symmetry of the glass dome was broken only by a
small hatch in one side, also made of glass and framed in
steel. Coulter opened the hatch and crawled in after Seth.
The hut had no floor-just the bare earth. Hugo waited
outside.
We're safe in here? Seth asked.
As long as we don't break the glass from the inside, no
creature can get us, even a fog giant in a blood frenzy.
Blood frenzy?
You'll see, Coulter assured him. Fog giants go mad
around blood. Worse than sharks. This tribute is the price
we agreed to pay for information Burlox gave us about the
marshland. After the tribute, he has promised us one more
piece of information.
Burlox is the giant?
The most approachable of them, yes.
What if the wrong giant takes the buffalo?
Coulter shook his head. Fog giants are highly territorial.
Another would not encroach on Burlox's domain. Their
borders are clearly defined.
Despite the condensation on the glass and the intervening
mist, Seth had a good view of the buffalo. It was grazing.
I feel bad for the buffalo, Seth said.
Like most livestock, it was born to be slaughtered,
Coulter said. If not by a fog giant, by your grandfather. The
anesthetic will dull its senses. The fog giant will administer a
quick death.
Seth frowned, staring through the glass. What had
sounded like fun back at the house was no longer very
appealing, now that he recognized the buffalo as an actual
living thing. I guess I eat hamburgers all the time, he
finally said.
This isn't much different, Coulter agreed. Somewhat
more dramatic.
What about the rules of the treaty? Seth asked. Won't
you get in trouble for killing the buffalo?
I won't be doing any killing; that will be the giant,
Coulter explained. Besides, the rules are different for
animals. The treaty was meant to keep sentient beings from
committing murder and casting spells on each other. The
same protection does not extend to animals of a lower order
of intelligence. When the need arises, we can slaughter animals
for food with no repercussions.
Another roar sounded, much closer and more intense. A
gargantuan shadow loomed beyond the buffalo. Here he
comes, Coulter breathed.
Seth's mouth went dry. As the fog giant emerged from
the mist, Seth found himself scooting back to the far side of
taller than his knee. Hugo was shorter than his hip. The buffalo
suddenly looked like a house pet.
The fog giant had the proportions of a heavyset man. He
wore tattered, matted furs, and his body was smeared with
oily muck. Beneath the filth, his skin was a sickly bluish
gray. His long hair and beard were tangled in slime. In one
hand he bore a crude, heavy club. The overall impression
was that of a fierce, battle-weary Viking who had lost his
way in a swamp.
The giant stopped near the buffalo. He turned and
looked toward the dome, giving a single nod and leering.
Seth was acutely aware that a single swing of the huge club
could bash the hut to smithereens. Burlox tossed the club
aside and then pounced at the buffalo, tearing off the bridle
and hoisting the flustered animal into the air.
Seth looked away. It was too much. He heard a noisy
combination of bones crunching and flesh tearing before
clamping his hands over his ears. Part of him wanted to
watch, but instead he kept his head down and his ears
covered.
You're missing it, Coulter eventually said, kneeling at
his side.
Seth peeked. The buffalo no longer looked much like a
buffalo. Sections of the hide had been cast aside, and jutting
bones were visible. Seth tried to pretend that the leg Burlox
was mauling was a gigantic spare rib, and that the feasting
giant was drenched in barbecue sauce.
Not something you get to see every day, Coulter said.
True, Seth conceded.
Look at him, munching away-he can't eat it fast
enough. He rarely gets meat of this quality. He ought to slow
down and savor it. But the brute can't help himself.
It's pretty disgusting.
Just one beast consuming the meat of another, Coulter
said. Although I'll admit I glanced away at the start myself.
It was sadder than I expected.
Look at him going after the marrow. He doesn't want to
waste a thing.
I can't imagine eating something raw like that, Seth
said.
He can't imagine cooking it, Coulter replied.
They watched as the giant picked the bones clean and
sucked them dry. Here it comes, Coulter said, rubbing his
hands. You'd think he'd be satisfied, but no matter how
much fresh meat you give them, it just whets their appetite.
The fog giant began rooting around on the ground, apparently
lapping up what he could from the mud. Soon his face
was masked with sludge, and limp vegetation dangled from
his lips. He began hammering his mighty fists against the
soggy turf and throwing fragments of bone into the mist. He
tossed back his head and let out a long, angry cry.
He's going berserk, Seth said.
The fog giant wheeled toward the dome, scowling. He
picked up his club and charged, eyes ablaze. Seth felt totally
exposed. With glass on all sides, held together by narrow
strips of metal, it felt worse than no cover whatsoever. One
swing of the club and the dome would explode toward him
like a thousand daggers. He recoiled and raised his arms to
shield his face from flying glass. Coulter sat calmly beside
him, as if watching a movie.
Racing at full speed, the giant lifted the club high above
his head and brought it down with terrible force. Just before
the club connected with the surface of the dome, it
rebounded sharply, making an unnatural pinging sound, and
sailed out of the giant's grasp. Burlox's forward momentum
instantly reversed, and the giant pitched violently
backwards.
Shaken and seething, the fog giant arose and staggered
away from the dome. As a hulking silhouette in the mist,
Burlox began brutalizing a tree. He tore down huge limbs,
and was soon pounding his fists against the sturdy trunk.
Groaning and growling, he seized the trunk in a terrible
embrace, twisting and wrenching and wrestling until the
bole began to split. With a final mighty heave accompanied
by a tremendous crack, he toppled the entire tree and knelt
panting, hands on his knees.